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Gas-lit carriage lanterns hanging over cobblestones,
Riotous trailing blooms under windowpanes,
The air heavy, cloying,
Redolent with confederate jasmine,
Tawdry, tangy pluffmud,
Or Sunday’s supper shrimp,
Hand-in hand among the ghosts,
Desire palpable, electric, a living thing,
Circling, swirling, beckoning,
Whispering home, home, home.
About the Creator
Jscholar
Editor, writer, music lover, & sometime scholar with an attitude problem carefully nurtured over decades.
genxcalling.com
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